The Story of Grunbunt
by Grunbunt
Summary: When Grunbunt is stranded in the Stormwind Orphanage, with only one freind out of the many rutheless kids out and about, he is desperate to find a way out. But what turns out to just be an escape forms into an adventure to save a loved one, and a freind.


Grunbunt

Prolouge

"Dad… , when can we head back?" a small boy, with rags of starch brown hanging down on his almost in-humanly skinny body. He was wading his way through a vast field of waist high wheat crops, it was almost dawn, so a spectrum of orange and yellow, tinted with the shadows of the crops, played across the edges of the field.

A man with long dark hair, a few strands of gray here and there among his thick locks, looked over. He wore the same style of dark brown rags, but his looked older and more tattered, as if he hadn't took them off for a few decades. He turned to his son and smiled a faint grin that parted through his wrinkles.

"No… a few more and then we can head back.", he said as he slid his slick scythe through a few more crops, putting them in the bark woven basket hanging limply from his back. The boy turned and faced in the opposite direction his father was looking. He squinted his eyes and stared through the tall thick trees of Elwynn Forest. If you looked close you could see a cabin, and if you got closer you would realize it's not a cabin, but more of a hovel.

Something caught the boy's eye as he scanned the horizon, the silhouette of creatures on some kind of horse. As the picture became clearer you could see that the horse like creatures looked more like wolves of some kind, and there were harnesses across there backs. The men didn't look like men, all of them were bald, and they were much to big to be men, there muscles rippled every time there wolf mounts took a bound. As they came closer you could recognize the vague points on there ears.

"Dad… some-one's coming", said the young boy as he pointed to the large crowd of creatures getting ever closer. The father's grin faded, and his eye's flashed with horror as he looked toward the crowd. He dropped his scythe and turned to his son. He grabbed his shoulder and looked him in the eyes, the father's brown pupils larger than normal and uttered one, simple, word. His harsh voice loaded with emotion.

"Run"

The boy had no time to answer as a noise stopped him before he could start to let a word pass his lips. It was the loud cry of a war horn. It was the sound he had heard from the stories in Goldshire, the sound that made grown men cringe when the elders blew upon the salvaged item recovered from the second war, the sound that no being would ever want to hear. It was the sound of an Orcish War Horn.

Before the man could perform one step on the motion to run with his son away from the enemy army, a loud _whisk _penetrated the air. The boy looked down in horror, as an arrow pierced his father's chest. He made a small gurgle, the last sound his son would ever hear, and fell onto his boy as a last act of protection. The boy must have understood this because the laid there, not moving, under his father's dead body as the padded thumps of the Wolves stopped right beside him.

"Echk Nagga tilth ehn mar" said a gruff voice to the boys left. An even louder thump sounded as if the Orc jumped off from his mount. He felt his father's body being prodded. And then they laughed. They laughed on and on, there hoarse laughter filled his ears, making him want to lash out, the uncontrollable rage boiled up inside him. He felt the ground underneath him begin to get hotter, it started to sizzle, but before anybody or anything could react, the laughter stopped. Then the Orcs got back on there mounts and plodded away seeking there next victim. And there lay the boy under his father's dead body in silence. He wept.

The Dream

_Grunbunt ran down the pathway, fire licking at his heels. The tree's along the path set aflame too, he could hear people yelling in immense pain. His head turned around to see a gnarled stick chasing after him, lit on fire. It got closer, he started to sprint, the fire making his brow bead with sweat. The gnarled stick jumped on his back. He was on fire! He could feel the flames literally incinerating his flesh alive! He screamed in agony! _

Grunbunt jerked up, his thick orange locks falling over his brown eyes. He hit the bottom of his bunk and yelped, but covered his mouth quickly, trying not to wake up the others. After rubbing the sore bump now on his head, he looked around, scanning the room with prying eyes. Through the darkness of the room he could see eight bunks, each with a child from five to seventeen sleeping on either the top or the bottom of the bunk. They had a bright yellow, furry wool blanket on top of there still bodies, or on the floor sitting like the piece of trash it was. Some kids thought it to be so uncomfortable that they just slept without it, or some were so cold some nights they'd just grit there teeth and bear through it. He rolled over and his gaze slowly averted to the cold, grey wall boxing them in, and it eventually stopped at a metal door. The metal door had a hefty, no that's not the word, excruciatingly complex is more like it, lock on it. As he let a sigh emit from his mouth, he lifted his head up to the large lump leaning towards him from his bunk, that was Grackis, another orphan who, well, was a bit overweight.

Now, you must be utterly confused, so I'll lay it out for you. Grunbunt is in the bustling city of Stormwind, he is also in an Orphanage in the Cathedral District, with an especially mean foster parent. Grunbunt was also the young lad in the previous chapter, and, by what you've read so far, he's not in an extremely good predicament at the moment.

Grunbunt shifted over for a better position, his wool blanket itched his neck and he reached up to scratch it furiously. But instead of feeling the prickly wool, he found it had already been lowered,. Grunbunt turned his head to see Grackis's double chined, blue skinned, and tentacled face looking at him with a slight grin. Oh, and if your wondering, Grackis is a Draenei.

You see, Draenei's were a new race to the lands of Azeroth, where Stormwind was currently placed. There race came from the distant lands of Outland seeking refuge, and thus, they landed in Exodar, a small island to the North of Kaldimor. Draenei men were usually above eight feet, muscled more than any other race, and commonly known to be very Noble. This was not true for Grackis, he was quite overweight, still shorter than Grunbunt, and not so noble as much as being an ass most of the time. Except to Grunbunt.

"Thanks, mate" Grunbunt whispered quickly to his friend leaning down from the bunk. Grackis shrugged as he said,

"No problem, just don't be yelpin' a whole lot. Ye damn well woke me up." Grackis said, his grin widening. Grunbunt stifled a chuckle and sat up, his locks fell over his eyes again and he blew them away.

"Grack, when are we ever going to get out of here? This hell hole smells like tuaren crap, and Roger hasn't fed us for two days." Grackis frowned at this remark, his tentacles wiggling slightly with his facial movements.

"As soon as we get a chance…" Grack said with a sigh, and with that his massive form rolled back up onto the bunk. Grunbunt stared at the straining wood as he thought, When will I get that chance? When will I get out of here?

His eyes started to close, and before he knew it, he was in the blissful world of sleep.

Life as a Jailbird.

Life as an orphan was a hard one for Grunbunt, seeing as everyday he woke up to Grackis's large form dressing. It disgusted him to the point beyond comprehension. Infact, some days he just closed his eyes and wished himself back to sleep, trying to escape from the constant torture of his best freind's backside.

"Ugh..., damn Grack, do ye think ye could cover yer fat ass up this mornin'?" Grunbunt asked dryly as he swung out of the bed. Grackis turned, and looked quite offeneded, as he replied.

"Oi, if they let me go outside once and a while, maybe i'd loose some damn wieght." he muttered as he pulled up the last of his day clothes. Grunbunt yawned and turned around, the now illuminated room was bustling with boys his age, boys older than him, or just so young it was cruel to even have them there.He stood up and walked toward his small, green sack where the few precious items he had left were still sitting there. He sighed and rustled through a large brush, it's brown wood looked beaten in and most of the bristles were gone, but he still kept it. He dragged it through his hair as best as possible and put it beside him. He looked in the bag just to check if the rest of his items still lay there, resting as usual. Woolen Jacket, check, Pen sized dagger, check, a pair of sandals, one of them missing a strap, check. He nodded and closed the bag, swining it under his bunk.

A large Night Elf boy walked up, he was tall, very muscled and quite scary looking. His purple skin was darker than most Night Elves, and one of his long, pointed ears was shorter than the other. The short one looked like it must have been cut off, sliced open, or just plain ripped off. The Night Elf bumped into Grack and grinned evily.

"Watch it porky..." he said as he moved past Grack and up to Grun for some confrontation.

((TIRED! GOING TO BED!))


End file.
